On Board the Great Titanic
by three-days-late
Summary: Titanic AU. Next: When it all becomes too much and Arthur tries to take his own life, Alfred comes to his rescue in more ways than one.
1. On Deck

**So this is a Titanic AU I've had in mind for quite a while with Rose!England/Jack!America (because that is _so very original_), **where Cal wasn't France and the 'gay arranged marriage in 1912 thing' made sense. It involves completely gutting the movie and changing several characters/motives, most notable being Cal is both Switzerland and Liechtenstein, but the whole thing never really got off the ground.****

** Instead, every now and then I may get an urge to take a scene from the _Titanic _movie and Hetaliaize it into this AU. Please note that because its based on what I feel like doing, the chapters will be out of order, but I assume most of you have seen the movie anyway and know what's going on (spoilers: the boat hits an iceberg and sinks). If I ever actually do finish the whole movie, I'll go back and put them in order, but until then let's see if it works this way.**

**Characters/Pairings for this chapter: **USUK, mentions of Switzerland, England/Liechtenstein, Italy, past America/Romano, America/Japan.

**Enjoy.**

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><p>Arthur Kirkland had no idea what he was doing. Certainly he was grateful to the boy for not only preventing him from jumping off the ship, but for also being discreet about his reasons for doing so, but he had already thanked him the night before, and he'd see him later tonight at dinner. There was no need to actually <em>invite<em> Alfred Jones up to the first class deck and spend all afternoon with him talking about, well, just about everything.

"And that's how I ended up in England," Alfred finished with a smile. A silence fell between them for the first time that day before he cleared his throat and said, "So, uh, walking around the deck with you has been nice, but I'm guessing you didn't call me up here to hear about my life story."

"Quite right," he sighed before looking out over the ocean as they kept walking, "Mr. Jones-"

"Alfred," he interrupted, "Call me Alfred, or Al if you want."

"_Alfred_, I wanted to thank you for what you did yesterday. Not just for, stopping me, but also for your discretion."

"Well, you're welcome," Alfred smiled and winked at him, "All in a hero's work."

"I know what you must be thinking," Arthur looked anywhere but those too blue eyes as his cane thumped against the deck with every step, "Poor rich boy, what does he know about misery?"

"No," Alfred stopped to lean against the railing, making Arthur stop as well, "No, what I was thinking was what could have happened to him to make him think that he had no way out."

"Well," that was none of his business. He'd only known the boy for less than a day, and as a gentleman it would be rude and inappropriate to tell him anything about his personal life. Then again, it's not like Arthur _had_ anyone else to talk to, Alfred seemed concerned enough despite being almost a complete stranger, and if he kept it all inside any longer he felt like he was going to implode. Who was Alfred going to tell anyway, the rats in steerage? Besides, he didn't have to tell him the whole story, just part of it.

Arthur stepped forward to lean against the railings and stare out over the ocean, "It was just, my whole world and everybody in it, and the inertia of my life plunging ahead and me, powerless to stop it. But, I wouldn't expect…"

"Me to understand?" Alfred grinned at him, "Just try me."

"I'm getting married," Arthur closed his eyes and sighed, "A week after we reach America, I'm getting married. 500 invitations have been sent out, everyone of influence will be there, and all the while I feel like I'm standing in the middle of a crowded room, screaming at the top of my lungs and no one even looks up, and-" he grit his teeth and willed himself to calm down before opening his eyes and finding Alfred's, "and there's nothing I can do."

Alfred was frowning, for once, and seemed to be mulling something over, "What's her name?"

"Lili," Arthur gripped the railing and looked back at the ocean, "Lili Zwingli, heiress to the Zwingli fortune."

"Never heard of them," Arthur furrowed his eyebrows, but Alfred just leaned back against the railing with that pondering look in his eye, "Is she nice?"

"Yes, she's very, sweet," he shrugged, "Very quiet."

"Do you love her?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow as he glanced over at Alfred, who was staring intensely at the deck. "That's a bit personal of a question isn't it?"

"It's pretty simple," Alfred kept his gaze down and away, but Arthur noticed a hint of pink dusting his cheeks, "Do you love her or not?"

"No," Arthur answered honestly, causing Alfred to go wide eyed and stare at him, "I don't love her," he looked back out over the ocean, "It's an arranged marriage. My personal feelings about her don't matter. I like her well enough; she's a good girl from a good family and will make a fine wife."

"Yeah, but," Alfred bit his lip, "Why not? Is it because she's hideous?"

That earned him a smack on the head with the cane, "I'm not shallow! A-and for your information, she's quite lovely."

"Alright, I get it," he rubbed his head, "Is she just… not your type?"

For reasons he couldn't fathom, that lone comment made his face heat up, "I, I suppose you could say that."

"So, would," Alfred's face went red as he focused his gaze on his feet, "would, someone like me be more your type?"

Arthur froze, one major thought running through his mind: He knows he knows he knows he knows _he knows._ The same images that passed through his mind when Vash confronted him about it did so now: Alfred telling everyone, him being disowned and disallowed his inheritance, having to roam the streets penniless for food and shelter. There was only one way Arthur could get out of it: deny everything.

"W-What are you implying?" Arthur pushed himself off the railing, "That's, this is absurd! You don't know me and I don't know you and we are _not_ having this conversation at all," he turned to glare at Alfred, who had the nerve to look shocked, "You are rude and uncouth and presumptuous, and, and I'm leaving," he tilted his top hat and extended his hand to Alfred, "Alfred – Mr. Jones, it's been a pleasure," his voice dripped sarcasm as they shook hands, "I sought you out to thank you and I have thanked you-"

"And you've insulted me," he pointed out as a knowing smile crept on his face, still shaking his hand.

Arthur froze, "W-well, you deserved it," and tightened his grip on his hand.

"Right," Alfred agreed, still smirking, and damnit, _he knew_ and Arthur needed to do something about it.

"Right," he responded, not letting go of his hand.

An awkward pause occurred, before Alfred pointed out, "I thought you were leaving."

"I am," Arthur finally let go of his hand go and shoved past him. He stopped and turned to add a, "You are so annoying," just in case, being the dimwit he was, he couldn't figure it out on his own.

It was fine. Yes, he knew, but he was in _steerage_. Even if he did tell anyone of importance at dinner tonight, no one would believe him. And as for the people in steerage who would believe him, well, they don't matter anyway. Even if they did know he was…different, what could they do?

Then it hit him, "Wait a moment," he stormed back to where Alfred was still standing, his smile amused, "I don't have to go anywhere. This is my part of the ship," he banged his cane against the deck to articulate his point, "_you_ leave."

"Well well well," he leaned against the railing and smirked down at Arthur, "now who's being rude?"

Arthur glared at him, all relaxed and carefree while he was standing there _ruining Arthur's life_, everything he had worked for would be ruined forever because _he knew_ and even if most people in first class _wouldn't _believe him, it only took one person to take him seriously and it was all over.

Arthur felt like taking out some misplaced aggression on him and snatched the portfolio he had been carrying around all day, "What is this stupid thing you're carrying around?" he held his cane with his elbow as he flipped through the sketches in it, "What are you an artist or something?"

"Actually, that's my friend Feliciano's," he sheepishly admitted, "I'm just holding it for him."

"These are rather good," he noted as he made his way to one of the deck chairs, "These are… very good, actually," he barely noticed Alfred sitting down in the chair next to his, leaning just a little too close to look at the pictures over his shoulder, "Who did you say your friend was again?"

"Feliciano Vargas," Arthur glanced over to see his ridiculous smile, "We met in Italy and he's been traveling with me all across Europe, drawing what he sees."

"Mostly people, I see."

"He likes drawing people the best, says they're 'God's greatest piece of art.' I wasn't raised Catholic, so I don't really get it."

"Mostly women…"

"Yeah, says something about their curves making them fun to draw."

"Mostly…naked women…"

Alfred laughed, cheerful and booming, at that, "Yeah, he's really good at getting women to take their clothes off for him. Surprised he's still a virgin."

"W-Well," Arthur flipped to the next page, full of sketches of the same man. The same man took up three more pages of sketches, in fact, "He seems to… like this man."

"We met him in Germany, Ludwig something or other. Usually Feli only goes after women to sit down and model for him, but for some reason he really wanted to draw this guy, kept chasing him down and bugging him until he just gave in. Feli can be persistent when he wants something."

"I'll bet," Arthur quickly flipped through a set of sketches of Ludwig without his shirt. He stopped at a sketch of another man, with darker hair, a small flyaway curl sticking out, and a scowl that appeared to be permanent. The face was drawn with such detail it was as if it was the artist's own, "Is this your friend?"

"W-what?" Arthur looked over to see Alfred's face a tad pink, "N-no, that's not Feli. It's his brother, Lovino."

"Is Lovino on the ship too?"

"No," Alfred's voice grew sad as he looked out over the ocean, "He's in Spain, I think, I'm guessing. I met the Vargas brothers when I first got to Italy, and they took me in, were real nice about it, even if they didn't have much to offer. Lovino and I were, uh," his cheeks grew darker, "close, but one day I woke up, and he wasn't there. Feli decided to come traveling with me after that."

Arthur looked back at the picture, at the painstaking detail the artist put into it, as if he didn't want to forget one tiny feature of the brother who left him, "Why do you think he's in Spain?"

"He was always talking about Spain," came the reply.

Arthur decided not to press it and flipped through some more pages and stopped on one of an oriental looking woman, "You've been to China?"

"Yeah, not Feli though," Alfred was back to looking over his shoulder, "I kinda went west from my hometown, so I hit Asia before Europe. I've been telling Feli about it though, and he's been drawing some of the people I'm describing to him."

"I see," he carefully traced a finger over the woman's hair, "What's her name?"

"Yao."

"Yao? Yao's a male name, if I'm not mistaken."

"Yeah, well," Alfred reached over and turned the page, "Clearly, he is male."

"O-oh, I see," Arthur's face went red as he quickly flipped to the next page, "Who's this?"

"Yong Soo," Alfred smiled at the memory, "He was working in Japan when I met him, but he was a really happy guy, and a friend of Yao's. He helped me get passage to China from Japan."

"You've been to Japan?"

"Yeah, like I said, I just went west. Eventually I hit Japan."

"You do get around, for a po-" he stopped himself and tried again, "A person with, limited means-"

"I'm poor, you can say it," he tilted his head and laughed in a way that wasn't charming, "Have you ever been to Japan?"

"No, I've heard stories about it, and I've wanted to go, but I've never gotten around to it."

"It's an interesting place, a little bit of the new mixed in with some of the old. Nothing like you've probably heard."

Arthur hummed in agreement as he turned the page, ignoring when Alfred leaned a little closer. The next page was full of sketches of the same Japanese man, almost as much detail put into him as the sketch of Lovino, "And who's this?"

"That's Kiku. Kiku Honda, or Honda Kiku, I guess, since the names are reversed there," Alfred's eyes seemed to be looking at something worlds away, "He was the first person I met in Japan, and-"

"He took you in?" Arthur guessed as he looked down at the man on the paper's pleasant smile, "That sounds familiar."

"Yeah, well," he chuckled, "I was half dead when I got to Japan and mostly alright when I got to Italy."

"Half dead?" Arthur blinked, "Don't tell me you swam across the ocean?"

"Don't be silly Arthur! I'm not that stupid. It's just, stowing away isn't the safest way to travel you know…"

"I see," he lightly traced a finger over the picture so as not to smudge it, "He seems, more detailed, I suppose, then the others. I mean, from the one's your friend drew from your descriptions as opposed to them modeling for him."

"Yeah, well, I guess I talk about Kiku a lot," the faint blush was back on Alfred's cheeks.

And suddenly it clicked in Arthur's mind, "Were you two…close?"

Alfred responded with a nervous chuckle, "Y-yeah, you could say that."

He noticed the hint of sadness in his voice this time, "What happened to him?"

"He could never leave Japan. And as nice a place as it is to visit, I could never settle down there forever."

"You sound like you're incapable of settling down anywhere, Alfred."

"Not true. I could settle down back home in America, if I met the right person," Arthur looked up to see that Alfred was staring right at him.

Arthur blushed and looked back at the picture of Kiku, his pleasant smile and understanding eyes. Perhaps Alfred _did_ understand. Perhaps, despite their opposite lifestyles, they were actually very much the same. Perhaps he _could_ trust him with this.

Even if he couldn't, Arthur was simply tired of living a lie.

"I, yes," he slammed the portfolio shut and stared resolutely at the ocean, "That is to say, yes, someone, someone like you would be more my type then Lili. I'm not saying that you _personally_ would be my type, rather, _someone_ like you-"

"I understand," Alfred smiled as he took the portfolio back, "But… why the wedding then?"

"It's different, for me," Arthur retroactively glanced around the deck to see their section devoid of any eavesdroppers, "If word were to get around that I was…different, me, my family, we would be ruined. I'm a Kirkland, I can't let that happen."

"So, why Lili?" he snapped his head back to see Alfred frowning at the deck, "Does she know? Does she even get a say?"

"I don't think so," Arthur sighed as he leaned back in the chair, "And she gets about as much say in this as I do. The marriage was arranged by my parents and her brother."

"Does he know?"

"Yes, he does."

Alfred seemed surprised by that, "But why? Why would he put his sister into a loveless marriage like that?"

"I wouldn't expect you to understand," he shook his head before bringing a knee to his chest and resting his chin on it, "The Zwinglis, although very rich, are still considered new money. The Kirklands, on the other hand, are from very old money that, unfortunately, is running out. It's simple really: she and her brother get titles, and my family gets wealth again. Love has very little to do with any of that."

"But if he knows -"

"That's the whole point," Arthur's grip on his leg tightened, "Even facing destitution, my family is stubborn. They wouldn't marry me off to just anyone unless they knew a secret that would completely ruin us like Vash does. If our families were joined, however-"

"Then he couldn't tell anyone without running himself as well?" Alfred was looking right at him now, and Arthur found it impossible to look away as he nodded, "That's, really unfair, for both of you," he placed his hand next to Arthur's resting on the armrest.

Arthur looked down at their almost touching hands, reveling in the warmth the other gave off, and couldn't help the small smile on his face. He closed his eyes to get his emotions under control, but left his hand where it was. Perhaps in another place or another time, they could have…

"Yes, it is. But that, dear Alfred, is life."


	2. At the Ship's Stern

**So I kinda do still like this AU, so every now and then I may get an urge to take a scene from the _Titanic _movie and Hetaliaize it into this AU. Please note that because its based on what I feel like doing, the chapters will be out of order, but I assume most of you have seen the movie anyway and know what's going on. If I ever actually do finish the whole movie, I'll go back and put them in order.**

**Characters/Pairings for this chapter: **USUK, France, Switzerland, background characters, mentioned England/Liechtenstein

**Enjoy.**

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><p>"Mr. Kirkland, I've heard about your recent engagement. Allow me to offer you my congratulations."<p>

Arthur forced a smile on his face. He'd gotten very good at appearing happy and excited whenever his impending marriage was brought up, "Yes, thank you."

"Miss Zwingli is a lovely young lady," he went on, some very wealthy gentleman from America that Arthur should probably know but can't be bothered to remember right now, "Quite a catch too."

"Yes, a lovely girl," Francis Bonnefoy smirked, "Although I am surprised your parents approved of such a marriage. They are, after all, very traditional."

Arthur's smile became more of a grimace, but that was alright, because it was Francis and everyone knew that the Kirklands and the Bonnefoys got along like cats and dogs. He could easily blame it on that. "We were, able to convince them. After all, the marriage is mutually beneficial and we are very much in love," maybe if he said it enough times he'd start believing it.

He risked a quick look over the men's shoulders to find that Vash, talking with another group of distinguished gentlemen about money issues, was giving him the warning look again, the reminder that he was watching very, very closely and if Arthur slipped up even the slightest he would have no qualms with ruining everything.

"Ah, love," Francis was saying, but Arthur had more than mastered the art of drowning him out, "the answer to many a puzzle, is it not?"

"Quite," suddenly the air felt thinner, pressurized, and Arthur couldn't spend one more moment in that room with those men, "If you would excuse me gentlemen, I am in need of some air."

They let him go without much of a fuss, and Arthur felt Vash's eyes follow him as he left the closed in cabin. As soon as he was out on deck in the fresh sea air he bolted, running as far away from them, from his problems, from himself, as he could.

There was nobody in his life he could talk to, no one who understood. Everyone would rather dress him up and parade him around like some sort of pet, the perfect son, brother, husband, whatever they needed him to be. Meanwhile he had to hide everything, who he really was under all the suits and the top hats and the posturing, what he really felt about the girls his parents paraded in front of him and the servant boys he tried so hard not to look at, in order to please them. And he just let it happen.

And now it was all becoming too much for him to handle. He was going to be married, and poor Lili was going to have to live with his oddities, his urges. He could never be the proper husband she needed.

Arthur's frantic running had brought him to the back of the ship. He stopped to catch his breath on one of the benches as his eyes roamed over the railings on the very back of the large ocean liner, the only thing standing between him and the water below. Suddenly an idea struck him, a solution to all his problems, and he slowly made his way over to the railings. Determined Arthur hoisted himself up and over, carefully lowering himself on the other side and clung onto the railing as he leaned out over the dark water. Now there was nothing but air and his grip on the metal behind him between him and the cold water below.

"Don't do it," Arthur turned to find a man with the bluest eyes he'd ever seen staring back at him behind a pair of wire rimmed glasses, concerned about the wellbeing of some stranger. He could tell by one sweep of his clothes and his ruffled blonde hair that he was from steerage, but his hand was still held out in an offering, trying to coax him back from the edge.

"Stay back!" he barked at him instead, "Don't come any closer!"

The stranger ignored his warning and crept closer, "C'mon, just give me your hand and I'll pull you back over."

"No! Stay where you are!" Arthur ground his teeth and tightened his grip on the railing as he shouted, "I mean it! I'll, I'll let go!"

The man took a final drag from his cigarette and motioned towards the ocean with it. Arthur allowed him to take the few steps he needed to reach the railings and throw it overboard, and he tried not to notice how he didn't back away again, instead placing his hands nonchalantly in his pockets as if he was simply having a polite conversation about the weather inside of trying to talk someone out of killing themselves.

"No you won't," he said simply, as if he already knew all of the answers and was merely waiting for Arthur to catch up.

"What do you mean no I won't?" Arthur was more insulted than anything, "Don't presume to tell me what I will and will not do, you don't know me!"

"Well, you would've done it already."

Arthur blinked, but rather than admit the stranger was right, he growled, "You're just, you're distracting me! Go away!"

"I can't," he shook his head, "I'm involved now. If you let go I'm gonna have to jump in there after you," he said as he removed his outer jacket.

"Don't be absurd," Arthur said as the strange reached for his boots, fully intending to follow through with his threat, "you'll be killed."

"I'm a good swimmer," which was more than Arthur could say.

"The, the fall alone would kill you," despite having just met, he really didn't want this kind stranger to die in an attempt to save him.

"It would hurt, not saying it wouldn't," he finished, removing his left boot and shrugging as he moved to work on the right, "To be honest, I'm more concerned about that water being so cold…"

Arthur looked back towards the ocean. Of course, he knew that he would drown if he didn't snap his neck on impact with the water, but the thought of freezing while the air was sucked out of his lungs was an unpleasant thought, "How cold?"

"Freezing," Arthur turned back to see the man looking at him with intense concentration, "maybe a couple of degrees over," he removed his other boot and stood up straight again, hands back in his pockets, "You ever been to Wisconsin?"

Arthur looked at him like he'd gone insane, "What? What's that?"

"It's a state in the US, in the Midwest. It's where I'm from," he nodded and smiled a little, "They have some of the coldest winters around there. I grew up near this town called Chippewa Falls, and when I was a kid, me and my father would go ice fishing out on Lake Wissota. Ice fishing is when you-"

"I know what ice fishing is!" Arthur snapped, causing him to recoil a bit.

"Sorry," he held up his hands in defense, "you just seem like more of an indoor kind of guy is all. Anyway, I fell through some thin ice, and I'm telling you," he leaned forward, and Arthur wondered when he got that close, "water that cold, like right down there, it hits you like a thousand knives stabbing you all over your body. You can't breathe, you can't think, at least not about anything but the pain," he paused, seemed to think about something for a moment, before shaking it off, "Which is why I'm not looking forward to jumping in there after you." The man sighed and took off his other jacket, tossing it on top of his boots.

They stood there for a moment, neither moving, before he said, "I guess I'm kinda hoping you'll come back over the rail and get me off the hook here."

"You," Arthur ground his teeth and turned back to the water, "You're just, you're crazy!"

"That's what everyone says," he chuckled and took another step forward, and he was far to close now and that is not what Arthur should be noticing right now, "But with all due respect Sir, I'm not the one hanging off the back of a ship here.

"C'mon, give me your hand," he held out his hand in front of Arthur at an angle he could easily grab it should he so choose, "you don't want to do this."

The more Arthur thought about it, the more this man made sense. Whatever problems there were in his life, he would face them head on, not throw himself off a ship in a moment of weakness. He grabbed the hand and carefully turned back around so he was fully facing the stranger.

He smiled, and it somehow managed to light up his face whole face, and said, "Alfred Jones."

"Arthur Kirkland," he said as he managed a smile of his own.

Alfred's smile grew as he steadied Arthur to help him back over the edge. One of the rails was wet, however, and Arthur lost his grip and slipped.

Instead of the freezing water he was expecting, Arthur felt himself stop in midair with a tug on his arm. Alfred had used his free hand to grab his wrist and was now frantically trying to pull a flailing Arthur back up to the railing.

"I've got you, c'mon," he started to pull Arthur back up.

When Alfred let go of his wrist with one of his hands to make a grab at Arthur's other hand, Arthur ended up slipping even further, letting out a shout and a cry of, "Help! Someone! Help!"

"Arthur, Arthur!" he heard Alfred shout over his own screams, "Arthur, it's okay, I've got you. I'm not gonna let go," one look in his eyes and Arthur knew that he wouldn't, "Now pull yourself up, c'mon!"

Through their combined efforts Alfred managed to haul Arthur up over the railing. Legs feeling similary to jelly, he collapsed onto the deck and ended up dragging Alfred down on top of him. As they were both getting their bearings, Arthur heard the sounds of footsteps running towards them; his screaming must have summoned some of the crew.

"What's all this?" he heard one of the men ask, confused, as Alfred gathered enough sense to sit up and back away from Arthur.

"This really isn't what it looks like," he said, slowly standing up and raising his hands.

The White Star crewmembers were having none of it though, "You stand back! And don't move an inch!"

Arthur threw an arm across his eyes, still in shock over what just happened as embarrassment started flooding through him, the combination preventing him from reacting to anything as he got his thoughts in order. He heard someone shout for the Master of Arms as White Star crewmembers put Alfred in handcuffs and accused him of trying to mug Arthur. If only they knew the truth, he thought bitterly as other crewmembers helped him up to a bench and threw a blanket over his shoulders.

Someone had apparently called Vash, and he could hear him shouting, "This is completely unacceptable! How dare you lay a hand on Arthur Kirkland! Do you have any idea who he is?" Alfred sighed and rolled his eyes, so Vash grabbed his shirt and shook him, "Look at me, you filth!"

Alfred being yelled at that by Vash of all people brought Arthur back to reality. "Vash," he called out as he stood and tossed the blanket off his shoulder.

"What did you think you were doing?" Vash shook him a little harder.

"_Vash_," he said more forcefully. Vash turned, shocked, and Arthur stood a little taller, "Leave the boy alone. It was, just an accident."

Vash raised his eyebrows in disbelief, "An accident?"

"Yes, a bit stupid really," Arthur shrugged and stepped forward, "You see, I thought I saw a mermaid-"

"Mermaids Arthur?" he took small pleasure in the angry blush that spread across Vash's cheeks. Somewhere behind him he heard Francis chuckle and he noticed Alfred grin just a little, "Really?"

"Mr. Kirkland always has such a wonderful imagination, non?" Francis said.

"Yes, well," Arthur cleared his throat, "I obviously did not see a mermaid, but I was leaning over the edge and I slipped. I would have fallen overboard, but luckily Mr. Jones was here to save me, almost going over himself."

"Was that the way of it?" the Master of Arms asked Alfred.

Arthur caught his eyes and silently pleaded with him to not tell what actually happened. If Alfred could do that, then maybe he could put this whole fiasco behind him, "Yeah, that's what happened."

Arthur smiled at him and mouthed a quick thank you as Francis said, "Well, the boy's a hero then. Good for you, well done," and gave him a wink before turning to Vash, "So back to our brandy then?"

Vash nodded and grabbed Arthur's arm to lead him away, not giving Alfred a second glance, "Let's go. We need to talk…"

"How about," Francis said, nodding back towards Alfred, "a little something for the boy."

Vash stopped in his tracks, grip tightening on Arthur's arm, "Right. Gilbert, I think a twenty should do it."

Arthur barked out a laugh, all eyes on him as he said, "Is that the going rate for saving a life these days?"

Vash's frown deepened, "Mr. Kirkland is displeased," he let go of Arthur and turned to face Alfred, looking him with an appraising eye as a smirk slowly formed on his face, "I've an idea. Perhaps you could join us for dinner tomorrow, to regale our group with your heroic tale?"

Alfred frowned, considering the proposition as he looked right at Arthur, "Sure, sounds fun."

"Excellent. Now that that's settled," Vash renewed his grip on Arthur's arm and dragged him away, as he leaned towards Francis and muttered, "This should be amusing."

"Can I bum a smoke?" Arthur heard Alfred ask Gilbert behind him.

He heard the snap of Gilbert's silver cigarette case and the click of a lighter before Gilbert said, "You may want to tie those."

Arthur looked over his shoulder to see Alfred, lit cigarette in his mouth, unlit one behind his ear, kneeled down on the deck to tie his boots, "Interesting how he slipped so suddenly and you still had time to take off your jacket and shoes."

Arthur paled as Vash dragged him around a corner and out of sight.


End file.
